


Miro Does Dallas

by aleksrothis



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Consent Issues, Gangbang, Multi, Rookie Initiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: There are always rumors about playing in North America, in the NHL, about how veterans have the right to ask anything of rookies, or rookies being assigned to serve a particular veteran player, up to lurid tales of locker room orgies.Miro finds out first-hand how true this is.Now with added excerpts from the set-up chapters I wrote and couldn't make work initially.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this immediately after the game it refers to (25 October) so I've been working on it for a while!
> 
> Originally it was supposed to be a 5+1 type story but I couldn't make the '5' work so you just get the main event. I have tried to salvage some of the better parts of the set-up and post them as an epilogue after this.

Training camp passed in a flash and Miro spent any time he wasn't training either tired or hungry. He understood now why Roope had told him last year that nothing happened at camp. Who had the energy?

As the season got underway, as Miro had expected he'd been paired with the veteran defensemen, Methot or else Polak, and as a rookie he'd offered them their dues. They've wanted his mouth or his hands but it was clear anything more was off limits, for the time being at least. 

Klinger had made it clear Miro could come to him if he had any problems but it is Esa who is always there when he has a question or runs out of English. So far Esa hasn't expected anything in return, though Miro almost wishes he would ask.

After getting his first point in a loss, Miro is relieved that his first goal comes in a win. The next game will officially be his 10th, the one which guarantees they’ll keep him for the season. It wasn’t that Miro had any doubt he could make it but now he’s here he has to face what else that means. 

Faksa stops him on his way to the showers. “You probably want to wait until after?” he suggests.

Miro feels almost light-headed when he realises what the Czech is implying. Is this when everything changes?

Of course, he should have expected they’d want to do this at home. If he wasn’t so nervous he’d probably appreciate the thoughtfulness. Miro looks around the room and Klinger catches his eye, giving him an encouraging smile.

Miro feels his face heating up as Esa, changed into sweatpants and tee-shirt, rather than his suit, comes and sits next to him. “It's okay, I'm going to be here the whole time,” he tells him in Finnish.

It is strangely reassuring. Even if Miro doesn’t know exactly what’s going to happen, Esa won’t let anyone hurt him.

He isn’t sure if he missed an announcement or if everyone else just knew what was happening as, except for the As and goalies, they all file out faster than normal and with less than the usual exuberance from a victory. Most of them don’t look in his direction at all and the few who do won’t meet his gaze.

Julius is the one exception - he doesn’t quite manage a smile, though he got an assist today, but he does give Miro a blatant wink as he catches his eye before leaving.

Miro only just realises the captain is missing before he comes back with a small bag and an armful of the thick towels the massage therapists use.

Jamie passes a small bottle of something to Esa and Miro flushes as he realises it must be lube. “You’re still good to get him ready for us?”

Esa smiles, “Of course,” as he encourages Miro to drop his towel and straddle his lap. He let's Miro hide his hot face in his neck as he carefully warms the lube before methodically working his fingers into him.

Behind him, Miro can hear the others' talking but he tries to focus on Esa's touch rather than their words, easier when they're speaking English and Esa is murmuring in his ear in Finnish. Despite his embarrassment at knowing he is being watched, Miro still finds himself getting hard at the pressure and increasing anticipation.

Miro has tried to experiment by himself, wanting to know how it felt, but the angle had been awkward and he hadn't been able to bring himself to go through with it. It certainly hadn't been anything like this: the warmth of Esa’s body under him, the support of his arm around him, the whispered words of encouragement. 

He can feel himself trembling as Esa’s fingers push deeper, stretching him wider. Finally the muffled chatter behind him is broken by Benn’s words. “I think that’s enough.”

Esa pulls away, leading Miro feeling strangely bereft. A kiss is pressed to his temple as Esa helps Miro to stand on shaking legs.

“Who first?” Bishop asks. Miro isn’t certain where to look. He doesn’t want them to think he’s trying to influence their decision.

“Spez, for sure,” Klinger says. “Miro owes him for that assist.”

Segs jokes, “Age before beauty, right?” but there is general agreement and Miro forces himself to look up at Spezza, who meets his gaze.

“Come here?” he asks gently, smiling as Miro stumbles in his direction and catching hold of his wrist and pulling him in when he gets close enough.

Miro finds himself pulled between Spezza’s bare legs, hyper-aware of the hard cock rubbing against his hip.

He has to hunch as Spezza pulls him down with a hand at the base of his neck. The kiss is unexpected, though perhaps it shouldn't have been, but it distracts Miro from the large hand roaming across his naked skin, until fingers brush inquisitively at his hole.

He jumps when he hears footsteps approaching but Spezza holds him in place. When they stop Miro can sense someone else behind him, feel the heat of their body as they lean in.

“Are you a virgin?” Jamie asks, so close it must be him pressing up against Miro’s back, his words a wash of warm air across his ear.

Miro manages to nod, unable to get any words out. He knows Roope wouldn’t believe he’s nervous; normally he doesn’t have any trouble staying calm, but that’s hockey. This is difficult.

“Good.” Jamie sounds satisfied and Miro can feel his pulse quicken as, for the first time, the enormity of what’s happening sinks in.

Miro somehow feels his face heating even more as he is positioned in Spezza’s lap, his thighs stretched out, spread either side of Spezza’s. Miro can still feel Spez’ hard cock like a brand against his ass, rubbing against his hole but not yet pushing in.

Now he is facing the rest of the room, he gets his first proper look as who has stayed, as well as the bench which has been set up just off the logo, covered in a layer of towels. Miro doesn’t want to think too hard about what that’s for, so instead glances around at the rest of those gathered.

Esa is the only one fully dressed, smiling at him reassuringly, with Klinger at his side, still wearing _his_ leggings and undershirt from the game. Even though Miro knows Esa isn’t there to participate, it is still good to have the familiar face, to know that someone will understand him even if he is too far gone for English, though allegedly Klinger speaks some Finnish too.

On the other side of the room, Dobby and Rads are sat pressed together, even though their usual stalls aren’t next to one another, both bare-chested with towels wrapped around their waists. Miro is pretty sure team bonding outweighs national rivalries but the Russians still make him nervous and he’d heard from Eeli what the KHL equivalent of this particular ritual was like.

Segs has a towel across his lap, hands twisted in it as he leans forward showing his interest. His hair is all fluffed up, as though he’d showered and then dried it in a hurry. He’s the one person Miro isn’t worried about - he didn’t think Segs had it in him to be deliberately cruel.

Bishop is sat back in his stall, broad hands on his bare thighs, offering a tantalising glimpse of his cock. Of course Miro has looked in the locker room but he's tried not to stare and it isn't the same as seeing it hard. Bish is dauntingly large but it is Jamie, up close, who is most intimidating.

Jamie steps closer, until his cock is right in front of Miro’s face. This is familiar, at least, so he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, letting the tip slip in. Jamie tastes clean, for which Miro is grateful. The captain rests a hand on the back of Miro’s head; not controlling his movements but making it clear he could.

Although Jamie doesn’t let Miro take him deep, for a few moments it distracts him from the way Spezza is slicking his cock with lube and lining himself up. 

They don’t let him get entirely distracted though. When Spezza is ready, Jamie pulls back, letting his cock slap wetly against Miro’s cheek, as Spez starts to press into him. It doesn't hurt exactly though it's an uncomfortable stretch and Miro tries to shift position but between the two of them they hold him in place.

Miro tries to remember the advice he'd been given, takes a couple of deep breaths and pushes back into it. It seems to help and Spezza slips in another couple of inches, then a little more. Miro can see how his flush has spread down his chest and feels sweat prickle down his sides, his hairline.

Spezza groans when he is fully seated, fingers tightening on Miro’s hips. It probably shouldn’t feel like such an accomplishment but Miro still feels the rush of adrenaline. He rocks back, testing the sensation and feeling the strain in his thighs. 

He feels uncomfortably full but it isn't painful, though he is very aware this is just the start. Given how overwhelming this feels, Miro is very grateful it isn't Jamie who's going first. It's daunting enough taking _his_ cock in his mouth.

Miro gasps out a breath as Spezza holds him steady so he can thrust up into him and Jamie takes the opportunity to push back in himself. Miro finds his lips stretched wide around Jamie’s cock, pulling at the corners, and he can’t take the whole length.

The captain doesn’t seem to mind, pulling at Miro’s hair a little as he uses his mouth, holding his head still as he rocks his hips back and forth in a counterpoint to Spezza’s rhythm. 

The head of Jamie’s cock pushes gradually into Miro’s throat and he is grateful for his practice at this so he doesn’t gag or choke embarrassingly. He doesn't care what Roope says, any skill needs practice and this was worth it for the satisfied groan from Jamie when Miro's nose is finally buried in his crotch, even if it does leave him light-headed.

The discomfort of being penetrated fades and the head of Spezza’s cock rubs against a place inside of him that feels good. Miro is caught between the two of them, unsure whether he wants to push into the sensation or pull away. He ends up rocking between both and feels his cock hardening.

Miro wasn’t expecting to enjoy this and wonders if they're deliberately taking it easy on him. Spezza’s grip on his hips has eased up and Jamie is only rested a hand in his hair. Miro wants them to be pleased with him so he pushes himself to excel, bearing down when Spezza thrusts up, and trying to swallow around Jamie's cock.

Jamie comes first, pulling back to spill over Miro's mouth and throat. Miro licks his lips, ignoring the bitter taste in the hope of impressing his new captain.

It seems to work. Jamie smiles at him, brushing Miro's hair off his forehead. "You look good like this," he says, his free hand roaming across Miro’s collarbones and down his chest.

Miro shudders under the praise and tries to focus on Jamie’s touch rather than the ache in his thighs as Spez speeds up. Lips meet his shoulder before blunt teeth dig in as Spezza finishes, pulsing hot inside him. 

When they push him to his feet, Miro can feel it dripping out of him, down his inner thighs, as well as down his chest. He feels even more exposed now but Esa gives him a reassuring smile and Miro feels a fresh surge of courage.

He still stumbles as he is pushed towards the center of the room and it is Segs who catches him. “Easy there, kiddo,” he says, as he guides him down face first onto the bench, his hips bent over the edge.

It is a little easier when he can’t see everyone looking at him, even though he knows they are all still there. Miro could turn his head to look but he’d rather not think too hard about it so he closes his eyes instead.

Miro assumes it is still Segs touching him when someone rubs a finger against his hole. It takes some effort not to flinch away but as he lets them push, it slides in easily with a squelching sound. “You loosened him up nicely, Spez,” Segs says, sounding impressed.

Spezza laughs. “I think he’ll still be tight enough for you.”

If Miro wasn’t flushed with embarrassment before, he is now as they talk about him as though he wasn’t even here. The finger keeps moving inside him, different to how it had felt when Esa got him ready.

He is just starting to get used to it when the finger pulls out and he feels the broad hands part his cheeks wider then there is a cock rubbing against him. Miro tenses, unsure if he can take another so soon.

Sepe’s advice, to ‘Relax and let it happen,’ plays through his head and Miro tries to keep his breathing steady. He feels helpless here but he remembers how Julius had assured him he was their star rookie and they wouldn’t want to hurt him so Miro forces himself not to fight it as the cock pushes hard into him, his rim stretching around the thick shaft. 

“Oh yeah, so tight,” Segs pants into his ear as he works his way deeper in.

Miro feels the flush rising all the way to the tops of his ears, but Segs runs a hand down his side, as though soothing him, and says, “You’re doing good, kid.” 

It’s strange to be praised for this but Miro still feels himself relaxing. Segs’ lips brush against the nape of his neck, along his jawline and shoulders, soft kisses at first despite the tickle of his beard but getting rougher until they are certain to leave a mark.

It doesn't feel as deep at this angle, but the steady rhythmic thrusts rock him and he can hear the grunted breaths and slick sounds loud in the half-empty room.

Miro doesn’t know what to do as finds himself further aroused by the stimulation. He isn’t sure if that’s allowed but he can’t stop, his cock rubbing against the soft fabric of the towels, clenching his fists as the feeling goes from bearable to intense.

As he tries to control himself, Miro hears someone approaching. He doesn’t move until they turn his head to one side, tracing his lips with the damp tip of their cock. Miro opens his mouth before he opens his eyes to see who it is. 

Though Miro can’t see his face at this angle, he can still recognize Bishop as the only one here with a circumsized dick. It isn’t something Miro has a lot of experience with but he is determined to do his best. 

Bishop looms over Miro and he shivers, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. Bish has one knee on the bench, putting him at the right height to fuck Miro’s mouth. He’s not as thick as Jamie, but longer and, when he pulls Miro’s head back, the angle lets him push further into Miro’s throat.

It’s harder not to gag around it, to take deep breaths when he can and focus on the rhythm. In his effort of concentrating enough not to choke as Bishop repeatedly blocks his airway, Miro barely notices when Segs comes until he moves away, leaving Miro’s back cold and more cum dripping out of him.

Miro wants to curl up and hide but he hears Segs says, “Your turn” and has just enough time to prepare himself before the next person is behind him. They don’t speak as they approach and Miro isn't left empty for long; there is no hesitation before they push straight in. This time the pressure is almost painful as his already aching channel is forced to stretch around a thicker cock. Miro cries out but it is lost as Bishop’s cock muffles his voice.

“Careful with him,” Jamie urges and whoever it is pulls away then he feels more lube smeared over his hole, cold this time, before fingers push it into him. They are rough, both in texture and in action as they thrust into him. Then they curl inside him, pressing against that sensitive spot and rubbing back and forth over it. 

His own erection had flagged as he struggled against the sensation but soon the relentless pressure has him hard again, which is when they push back in. It isn’t as uncomfortable but it still feels like too much and Miro knows he’s going to be sore in the morning. At least their next game is three days away.

Bishop takes advantage of his distraction to pull back until just the head of his cock is inside Miro’s mouth and then thrust back in all the way. Miro does gag this time and he can feel the saliva running down his chin as Bishop grips his head more firmly and starts to move again.

Miro starts to feel the strain in his neck from the angle he is being held at, and in his thighs where his legs are stretched apart. He tries to concentrate on just one sensation but there is so much. The strong musky odor of Bishop’s groin and the bitter taste of his precum, the ache in his throat and the numb dizziness the lack of oxygen brings. Then the hands holding his hips in place, the rough thrusts opening him up, and the occasional jolt as they rub against his prostate at the right angle. 

There are words coming from what seems like a long way away and it takes a while before Miro realises they are directed at him. From what he can make out it’s not English, in fact it sounds like Russian so he guesses it is either Rads or Dobby but he can’t focus enough to work out which. It is too much to do anything but take it.

His jaw is getting tired when finally Bishop holds still, coming in his mouth, deep enough that he has to swallow it or choke. Some still escapes, running down his jaw and Bishop catches it with his fingers and push them into Miro’s mouth. “That’s it, take it all like a good boy.”

Miro does as he is told, wrinkling up his nose and licking Bishop’s fingers clean, trying not to think about the taste. Even if Bish wasn’t a Finn, you never wanted to upset your starting goalie.

When Bish pulls away, so does whoever was fucking him and Miro is guided over onto his back, relieved at the chance to stretch out aching muscles. It is Rads grinning down at him, with his uneven smile, and he bends Miro’s leg back until his knee presses against his chest before pushing back in. 

From this angle, he feels even thicker and Miro struggles not to fight it now. He digs his fingers into the towels he is laying on, blinks away stray tears. Miro knows it’s important in making him part of the team but that doesn’t make it any easier. Still, he tells himself he can do this.

Rads leans over him, sinking his teeth into Miro’s collarbone. It stings but Miro doesn’t complain, not even when Rads does it again, leaving his mark in a half-dozen places along the collar-line, just low enough to be covered by a shirt later if Miro’s careful.

As Rads pulls back, starting to thrust again, Dobby appears alongside him, hard cock in his hand. Though his jaw aches, Miro licks his swollen lips and prepares to take him but Dobby shakes his head. Miro feels a short-lived surge of relief, as he swallows against a sore throat, but it isn’t entirely a reprieve. Instead Dobby starts to jerk himself off, looking from Miro's face to where Rads is pounding into him. 

Without anything muffling his voice, Miro can't help but give choked out gasps at each thrust. In this too Rads’ aim is true and Miro squirms, as the feeling builds inside him.

Dobby pushes two fingers into Miro’s mouth, and he sucks on them. It helps to have the distraction, to be able to focus on something other than what Rads is doing.

It doesn’t last long enough before Dobby takes them away then runs his spit-wet fingers over Miro's chest, pinching his nipples. Miro gasps in surprise as they feel like they're connected directly to his groin and it is this sensation which tips him over the edge, crying out as he comes cock untouched. 

It isn’t a satisfying release, it almost hurts, and he can't help clenching around Rads’ cock where it is still driving into him. It’s too much and Miro whimpers and tries to get away but there are hands gripping his hips too tightly for him to move, and another on his chest, holding him down.

A couple more thrusts have him sobbing at the oversensitivity before Rads pulls out to finish over his chest as Dobby gasps out, “Sasha-” and something else in Russian. Miro only just manages to close his eyes in time before Dobby comes across his face.

There is a moment of stillness and Miro wonders if it is over, if he is done then Rads says, “All yours, Klinger.” Miro whimpers at the thought of more and flinches at the touch of fingers against the inside of his thigh.

“I'll take it from here,” Klinger says and that seems to be a sign for the others to start packing up.

Miro isn't sure about opening his eyes, since he can feel the viscous fluid covering his eyelids but he hears the sounds of people moving around. He tries to take steady breaths but he is shaking.

Someone wipes a damp cloth across his face and Miro blinks tentatively. Klinger helps him sit up and Miro hisses a little at the ache he can already feel between his legs. Cum is still leaking out of him onto the towels and he would be embarrassed except everyone here has already watched him getting fucked.

He looks around. The others are dressing, while Klinger is still in his under layers from the game. Though Klinger smells of game sweat, Miro is pretty sure he smells worse and he can’t help slumping a little against Klinger in his exhaustion. The Swede doesn’t seem to mind, wrapping an arm around him, helping to keep him mostly upright.

The others start to file out. Benn is the first to leave, patting Miro on the shoulder as he goes, saying, “Well done.” Segs tousles Miro’s hair before following him out.

Rads and Dobby are next to go, Rads winking at him, and Miro forces himself to smile in return.

Finally Bishop is the last one to leave and then Miro is alone with Esa and Klinger. Klinger offers a hand to help him to his feet.

“Are you not going to-” Miro tails off, not sure how he can take anything else, though the break has helped him feel a little more steady.

Klinger looks him over. “Maybe once you’ve had a shower.”

Miro is suddenly very aware that he’s covered in drying cum as well as that which is dripping out of him.

“Klinger doesn’t like sloppy seconds,” Esa says, as though he’s confiding in him. Miro feels his face heat, just when he’d thought nothing else could embarrass him anymore.

Klinger gives Esa a gentle shove but he doesn’t seem upset or angry. “Just because you’re talking Finnish, doesn’t mean I can’t recognise my own name.”

“You were supposed to,” Esa tells him, then turns back to Miro with a smile. “It's alright, I'm not going anywhere until you're done.”

It’s reassuring but Miro feels awkward now it’s just the three of them. He ought to tell Esa that he doesn’t need him to stay but selfishlessly he wants him to be there.

Klinger looks thoughtfully between them. “Did you want Esa to join in?”

Esa starts to protest that he isn’t supposed to be involved but Miro interrupts. “Is that allowed?”

Of course he wants Esa to be there if he can. Esa's been his rock as he gets accustomed to North America - the language, the weather, the size of the ice, his new teammates - never asking him for more than he can handle.

He'd been so focused on making sure he pleased the team he hadn't thought of the one who was most important to him but now he has, Miro would do anything for Esa.

“Who's going to stop us?” Klinger shrugs.

“Please,” Miro says fervently.

Esa gives Miro a long look before he steps forward and kisses him. Miro only has a moment to register it and not enough time to respond before Klinger puts a hand on Miro’s lower back and guides them into the showers. He kind of wishes he’d been able to brush his teeth before being with them, since his mouth tastes of multiple team-mates’ cum.

The two older players undress, giving Miro a few moments to scrub himself clean and at least rinse his mouth out before he is sandwiched between them. Miro feels safe here, the touch reassuring rather than overwhelming as it had been before.

The hot water feels good as do Klinger’s hands over his aching muscles, still sore from the game which felt like it had been days not hours ago.

Esa tilts his head to kiss him while Klinger presses lips to the back of his neck. Miro shudders, their gentleness suddenly affecting him more than the earlier roughness had.

“What do you want, Miro?” Esa asks, stroking softly over the purpling marks on his throat.

Miro doesn’t think he can take anymore, his ass and throat both sore, but he desperately wants to please them. He can feel how they’re both hard against him and he’s starting to get that way too.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, trying to reach out to both of them at once, not sure if he wants to pull them closer or push them away. “Please, I can’t…”

“It’s okay, we’re not going to do anything you don’t want. You can tell me,” Klinger assures him.

Miro manages, “I want to please you but I can’t take it again.”

“I have an idea,” Klinger says, looking between the two of them. “But I think Miro’s half-asleep on his feet here, aren’t you?”

Reluctantly Miro nods. He wants to do this but the adrenaline is wearing off and he’s not far from falling asleep.

“Then we’re not doing this here,” Esa says decisively.

Klinger doesn’t argue and he doesn’t seem disappointed that he isn’t getting to fuck him so Miro closes his eyes and lets the two of them manhandle him. Between them they towel him dry and help him dress. Esa hands him a bottle of Gatorade and chunks of a power bar, one piece at a time. Once he’s drained the bottle and had some food, Miro feels a little more awake.

They head back to Esa’s place, Klinger driving so Esa can sit in the back with an arm around Miro. Sitting down again is uncomfortable but not as bad as Miro as feared, though he can’t help fidgeting in his seat.

By the time they reach Esa’s his nerves have returned. Miro wants to do his best for them, but what are they going to want from him?

Klinger leads them straight to what must be Esa’s bedroom without any questions, displaying his familiarity with the place. Miro can’t quite put his finger on why that seems strange.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Miro asks. Klinger would have been within his rights to insist on having him back at the rink and leaving Esa to clean him up alone. He certainly didn’t need to drive them back here with no promise of anything more. 

“Because you’re one of mine,” Klinger says, taking their suit jackets to hang up.

“And Esa?”

“We D need to stick together. Besides, that’s the way it is here," Klinger shrugs, as he pops the buttons of his shirt, sliding it off and hanging it up beside his jacket . "Just the same as Bish’ll get final claim on Dobby after his tenth start.”

“And forwards?” Miro asked, thinking about Roope.

“Depends. Chubbs gets first refusal but he rarely takes it. So whoever of the A’s has the best justification.”

“I’ll be there for Roope just as I was there for you,” Esa assures him, already stripped down to his briefs. “He’ll be okay.”

Esa sits on the edge of the bed as Klinger comes back to help Miro undress. Miro feels clumsy as he drops his hands to let Klinger finish unbuttoning his shirt and then Esa pulls him down onto the bed beside him. The mattress is soft and Miro is tired enough he could just fall asleep, but Klinger is pulling off his pants and underwear.

“Let me make you feel good, okay?” Klinger says, leaning over him.

Miro is dubious what Klinger is getting out of this but then Esa turns his face towards him, kissing him, and Miro forgets what he had been worried about. Kissing Esa is all that he could have wanted as Esa alternates hard and soft, leaving him breathless, lips tingling.

Meanwhile Klinger works his way down Miro’s body with gentle touches and kisses, finding all the sensitive places which make him squirm. He presses his own lips to all the places Miro will have marks tomorrow, the faint traces of teeth and fingertips and nails, taking away any memory of pain and replacing it with pleasure.

When he reaches his crotch Miro expects him to stop but instead Klinger licks softly over the head of his half-hard cock. Miro bites his lip to keep the sounds he wants to make inside but Esa pulls it down with a gentle thumb. “No, no, we want to hear you.”

Klinger moves onto his balls, sucking them lightly, then down further still, pushing Miro's legs up and apart. The touch of Klinger’s lips to his taint gives him a jolt and Miro cries out when it reaches his sensitive rim. It doesn’t hurt but, despite the shower, Miro still feels embarrassingly wet and open there.

He tries to wriggle away but Esa’s grip holds him in place. “It’s okay, Miro. Just relax, enjoy it.”

Miro feels his face heating up, caught between embarrassment and his enjoyment of the act. It's like nothing he has felt before, drawing desperate noises out of him as Klinger's tongue flickers over his hole, occasionally pressing inside him.

Esa’s hand returns to his cock, stroking him faster now and Miro rocks back and forth between the two sources of pleasure: Klinger’s mouth and Esa’s touch, unable to decide which he wants more.

When he comes it is intense, seconds drawing out until Klinger finally pulls away, leaving him drained. He must fall asleep, or at least zone out, for a moment as the next thing Miro is vaguely aware of is the muffled sounds Klinger and Esa are making.

Eventually he manages to blink open his heavy eyelids enough to see them leaning across him and kissing whilst they jerk each other off.

They look so good together and he says, “Fuck, that’s hot,” the words coming out before he can think them through. Miro wishes for the energy to reach out, feeling he should be doing more than just lying here but then Klinger’s eyes meet his and he comes over Esa’s hand, his own slowing down. 

Esa pushes Klinger away, stroking himself hard and fast until he finishes over Miro’s chest. 

Miro thought he ought to feel the same discomfort about being covered in cum as before but back in the locker room it had felt so impersonal and now it makes Miro feels warm and wanted as Esa and Klinger press on either side of him

Eventually Esa pushes them into the bathroom, saying, “We don’t want to wake up stuck together.” 

Though Miro is even more tired and uncoordinated now, they support him between them and clean him up for the second time. 

He half-expects to be directed to a spare room but Klinger guides him back into the master bedroom and Miro isn’t going to complain. He is asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow, just about aware of the feeling of safety at being between the two of them.


	2. Extras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpts from the original 5 + 1 concept

**Helsinki - Roope Hintz**

The first thing Miro does once he gets back to Finland is arrange to visit Roope.

There are always rumors about playing in North America, in the NHL; about how veterans have the right to ask anything of rookies, or rookies being assigned to serve a particular veteran player, up to lurid tales of locker room orgies. 

Roope had gone to the Dallas prospects camp last year, so he will know better what Miro can expect.

They are sitting on Roope’s bed when Miro finally asks what he’s been dying to know. “Is it true what they say? About, you know, rookie initiations?”

“I don't have that much to tell you,” Roope says, flushing slightly. “You've heard the same rumours I have.”

“But you've been there,” Miro insists. “And you've had a whole year to speak to people.”

Roope shrugs. “I'm not a top prospect like you. No-one's going out of their way to tell me things. And I get the impression they like to keep the element of surprise.”

Miro sighs. He can be patient but he likes to know what he's expecting. “Has anyone said anything about getting experience?”

Roope shakes his head at him. “It's not a test you can study for.”

“No?” Miro asks, pretending at surprise. “You don't want to run drills with me?”

Roope laughs. “You would be as perfectionist about this as all the on-ice work.”

Surely that can't be a bad thing? Working on improving a skill is never wrong. Miro’s had girlfriends but he’s never been with a guy before. He’d tried watching porn but it didn’t really give him any pointers.

“So, have you ever, with a guy?” Miro asks. He tends to think of Roope as having more experience than him in all ways.

“No,” Roope says emphatically.

“Well do you want to? Just to practice?” It’s not like Roope is hard to look at with his unfairly clear skin and the way his hair curls at the ends.

Roope looks dubious. “I'm not sure that's a good idea. What if the team don't like it?”

Miro shrugs. “Who's going to know if we don't tell them? But it's not a big deal, you don't have to.”

“No, I just… I don't know.”

“I'm not asking you to kiss me or anything. It can't be much different to jerking off, surely? It's not like I haven't seen your dick before.”

“It's not the same though, is it?” Still Roope shrugs. “We can try, I guess.”

It is different, undressing with the intention of having sex, rather than as part of the game routine but Miro swallows down his nerves. He trusts Roope.

It feels weird, holding another guy's dick but the thought of being a disappointment spurs Miro on. He tries to concentrate on moving his hand, not thinking about the hand on his own dick.

Roope pants “Fuck, fuck,” then he is coming all over Miro's hand, before pushing him away.

Miro is still hard but he's close enough he's not going to stop. He strokes himself with his clean hand, wiping the other off on the sheet, ignoring Roope’s objections.

He finishes over his own stomach and, without looking, Roope passes him tissues to clean himself up.

* * *

**Olympics - Jere Lehtinen**

Miro's thrilled to be selected for the Olympic team. Even knowing the NHL players aren't going to be there, it’s still a huge honour to represent his country and one he hopes he can live up to.

It’s even more of one when _Jere Lehtinen_ , the national team manager, pulls him aside at the start of training camp to say how much he's looking forward to seeing Miro in a Stars jersey. Lehtinen had just had his number retired by Dallas and he’d played alongside Zubov, who was probably the Stars’ greatest defensemen, maybe even one of the best in the NHL.

Miro is too overwhelmed to do anything but smile and say thank you but, as he leaves, it occurs to Miro that Lehtinen could be a great source of information about the team and their traditions. 

Given Roope’s reticence and lack of relevant experience, Miro still has a lot of questions about the Stars. He doesn't know if Lehtinen would be willing to indulge his curiosity, or if he even played with any of the current team. Still, he figures it's worth the attempt to make a good impression.

It isn't easy to get a moment alone with him, but Miro didn't make it this far without a certain amount of determination. He manages it on the last day of practice, finding Lehtinen alone in his office and managing to stumble out his request for, “Anything you can tell me about how they do things in Dallas?”

Lehtinen gives him a searching look. “How badly do you want to know?”

Miro is pretty certain he understands how this is meant to work.

Lehtinen is happy to let Miro get down on his knees for him and show his gratitude and appreciation. Since his truncated fumblings with Roope, Miro has managed to both do some research online which wasn’t just porn and also gain some practical experience, hooking up in nightclubs. He puts it all together now, working Lehtinen’s length with his hand as he tries to take him deeper but not so much he risks choking.

Lehtinen seems satisfied enough with his level of skill, letting Miro control how fast he goes and how much he can take. Once Miro has established a rhythm with his hand around the base, he looks up at Lehtinen through his eyelashes.

That seems to help as Lehtinen wraps a hand around his head and encourages him to go deeper and faster. When Lehtinen finally comes, Miro does his best to swallow it all, feeling accomplished.

Miro leans away, wiping off saliva with the back of his hand. Lehtinen presses a thumb to the corner of Miro’s mouth, then pulls back, tucking himself away.

Afterwards Lehtinen asks Miro, “What exactly did you want to know?”

* * *

**Worlds - Julius Honka**

After the Olympics, Miro knows he’s a lock for the Worlds roster but he isn’t sure whether he can hope for his future Dallas teammates to join him.

When the roster is announced at least one of the Stars is on it. Miro doesn't know Honka but Roope and Aho do and they're sure to get to room together.

Miro wants to ask Julius all sorts of questions, but he cuts him off before he can really get started. “I know you’re going to be on the team next year, but there are some things we aren’t supposed to talk about.”

Miro hopes he isn’t going to get Roope in trouble with all the questions he’s had for him. “Is there anything you can tell me?”

“Sure, but there's a lot I can't.”

Perhaps that's why Roope had been kind of vague about what he'd heard. But for now Miro rethinks and asks Julius instead, “What's Hitchcock like?”

“Fuck him,” Julius says, face twisting, suddenly furious.

Miro realises Julius is shaking and cuddles with him on the bed. “They say he might not be back next year?”

“I hope not. I'm not sure I could stand another year of it.”

Miro must look worried as Julius is quick to reassure him. “You'll be fine even if he stays. You're their golden lucky pick. You're not going to be scratched, have to spend your nights watching from the box.”

He sounds bitter so Miro changes the subject. “Tell me about the team then.”

“What do you want to know?” Julius looks cautious.

“Like, the rest of the defence? Who’s friendly, who’s funny?”

“Esa’s awesome, you’ll like him - everyone does - and he has a really dry sense of humour. And Klinger’s great, I mean, for a Swede. He doesn’t quite get it, but he's really approachable.”

Roope hadn't given him the impression anyone was particularly unapproachable but all his stories came from call ups, maybe it was different when you were with them day in, day out. “And the Americans?” Miro asks.

Julius pulls a face.“They’re not all bad. Johns can be a bit rough, he’s a big guy. Methot doesn’t make a fuss about us talking Finnish in the locker room, unlike some, but he gets funny about being lumped in with the Americans.”

Miro makes a mental notice to check who on the team is actually American and who is Canadian, if it's going to make a difference.

When Miro suggests exchanging hand jobs, Julius is less reticent than Roope had been to mess around. And he makes an effort to work out what Miro’s into, changing the angle of his grip, the tightness, the speed until Miro is thrusting almost helplessly up into his hand, barely able to retain the presence of mind to reciprocate.

Julius turns out to be clingy in the aftermath and the intensity of his gaze eases up so Miro broaches the topic of the team's expectations again.

He is encouraging about Miro’s thoughts of getting more practice. “They say that want you to be a virgin but they get a bit impatient if you're too inexperienced.”

Miro tries not to sound too nervous as he asks, “I know you can't tell me any details but… Does it hurt?”

“You'll be okay. No-one wants to stop you being able to play.”

That isn’t an answer exactly, but it is a little reassuring.

* * *

**  
Turku - Sebastian Aho**

It had been Roope who'd given him Sebastian's number, saying Sepe might be willing to answer questions he wouldn’t.

They’d agreed to meet in Turku, neutral ground, renting a place by the water where some of Sepe’s teammates were going to join later.

“Hinee says you wanted to know what it’s like in the NHL?” Sebastian opens with. He gives Miro an obvious once-over. “You think you’re going to make the team this year?”

“For sure,” Miro tells him with more confidence than he feels. He isn’t about to let _Aho_ make him feel self-conscious.

Sebastian’s lips curve up in what ought to be a smile but instead looks mocking. “You’ll be fine, kid,” he says. “Just relax and let it happen. It can feel good.”

Miro rolls his eyes. He doesn’t need to impress Sepe, who laughs at him. “You want me to prove it?”

“I thought teams liked us to be virgins,” Miro says, trying not to make it sound too much like a question.

“Oh, I’m not going to fuck you,” Sebastian tells him. “You’re going to fuck me.”

Miro feels his face heat at the thought but he squares his shoulders with determination. He’s fucked girls, how different can it be?

Some minutes and a palmful of lube later, with Sepe propped up on his knees and elbows beneath him, Miro isn't so sure. He has fingers buried in the tightness of Sepe’s body and the thought of that glorious heat around his cock already has him on the edge.

Easing in, he has to stop to catch his breath but Sepe doesn’t give him a lot of breathing room, squirming under him. “Stop messing around and just fuck me,” he demands.

Miro carefully pulls back until just the tip of his cock is inside Sebastian, then slams back in.

Sepe cries out. “Yes, just like that.”

The pleasure rolls over Miro as he thrusts, trying not to dig his nails into Sebastian’s hips as he fights not to come too soon.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Sebastian asks. Miro’s pretty sure Sepe’s full of shit because he sounds like he’s already out-of-breath but he recognises a challenge when he hears one.

He shifts position so he’s pressed along Sepe’s back, resting his arms either side of Sepe’s head. Now he can move faster and harder, as he rocks his hips shallowly back and forth.

Like this he can smell Sebastian’s hair, the sweat trickling down his back. Miro sets his teeth into the curve of Sebastian’s neck, leaving marks for him to cover up or explain away. Not that Sepe will probably see them as anything to be ashamed of.

Miro is barely hanging on, wanting Sebastian to finish first, so he reaches around to bring him off.

Sebastian comes with a shout and Miro is so close now. A few more thrusts and he's spilling inside him, the pleasure whiting everything else out.

If it's always like this, he can see why Sepe is so keen on it. Maybe he really doesn't need to worry.

* * *

**Dallas - Kari Lehtonen**

Miro doesn’t mind staying at a hotel but he misses food that isn’t takeout, so when all the team’s Finns are invited to Kari Lehtonen’s place for dinner, Miro isn’t going to turn that down.

Lehtonen doesn’t look imposing; he smiles too much for that and the skin around his warm, blue eyes crinkles when he does. Miro’s a little nervous all the same - Lehtonen might not be part of the team anymore but Miro doesn’t doubt that he’s still in touch with the team’s veterans.

The food is good; traditional Finnish dishes which Miro is sure he’s going to miss here in Texas. After dinner there is an air of expectation and, when Julius and Esa make their excuses to leave, Miro feels his pulse getting faster.

Kari pulls him onto the sofa and wrap his arms around him. “You need to relax. There’s no big, bad wolves here to eat you up.” The older Finn has several inches and probably ten kilos on him and Miro forces himself to relax into the embrace.

His hands massage gently over Miro’s shoulders, down his arms, back up his abdomen and his chest. Miro feels his nipples hardening at the touch. “Good,” Kari croons in his ear. “Let it happen.”

Miro closes his eyes, letting Kari push him until he's lying back on the sofa. The touch stays over his clothes but the older man works his way down to his hips, his ass and thighs and finally to his crotch where his cock is soon straining at the fabric.

He gasps as Kari’s fingers roam lightly over his covered cock, feeling it twitch. “Just like that,” Kari says. “It's easier if you can find pleasure in it.”

He pushes up Miro's shirt, pulling it over his head but leaving it tangled around his hands to restrain them.

Miro finds his breath is reduced to shallow panting and he feels incredibly vulnerable, completely at Lehtonen's mercy.

His rough fingers pluck at Miro's nipples, teasing the hard peaks. Miro isn't sure if it's pain or pleasure, the sensation going straight to his cock, still imprisoned in his pants.

Kari alternates his touches across his neck, his chest, his thighs, until Miro has lost all sense of time. Kari murmurs encouragement as he goes, "You can bear it a little longer," and "They're going to love you, kulta, so good and sweet."

Miro is breathing hard, his pants a mess of sweat and pre-cum. His eyes have fallen shut somewhere along the line but he forces them open as Kari’s hand returns to his groin, teasing him through the material. Miro tries to push up into his touch but Kari presses a hand against his hip, holding him down. “Hold still for me. Nothing for you to do here, you just need to take it.”

Miro bites his lip, trying to stay still and, when Kari finally lets him come, it is in his pants.


End file.
